Erik and Christine had fallen asleep. The room had been a warm safe haven for the pair, and the day had slipped through their fingers, though each moment along the way had been savored.
Erik was the first to wake, blinking as he stared up at the ceiling. He stared at it for a long while. He could remember the heat of the summer he'd painted that ceiling. He'd thought about Christine with every brush stroke. There was something so whimsical about painted ceilings he thought. Perhaps he relished them so, since his home beneath the Opera House had none. A rocky, grey, unforgiving stone had been his roof for a number of years.
He stared at the ballerinas replicas of Degas, the ones that Christine had whispered to him of when she was a little girl. "If only I could be as beautiful as even one of those ballerinas angel…to be as graceful…." He smiled, as he remembered her small innocent voice. She hadn't known she would be even more beautiful than any of them.
Erik rolled over to his side. Christine was sound asleep next to him. Her exposed shoulder was all too tempting. He put his hand on it slowly massaging it. Christine inhaled, slowly exhaling, she was smiling. He ran his hand along her chin. She didn't stir. He'd not the heart to wake her.
Erik rose, slipping on his robe, making his way quietly over to the hearth. He put on a few small logs, positioning them to receive another when it was time. He turned, looking at Christine. She'd slid herself to the center of the bed, and was cradling a pillow between her arms. He smiled. She was entirely comfortable. He went to the tray with the teapot and strudel. He'd take it to the kitchen and retrieve several bowls of whatever it was that had filled the house with such wonderful fragrance.
He was a bit more deliberate as he descended the stairs, not wanting to surprise anyone, nor alert them to how very quiet he could be. The very first lesson in the art of deception was being as predictable as one could, so as to be above question. Consistency was key. If one always plodded with a heavier foot, then one would not be so easily accused of sneaking about.
He shuffled his feet a bit as he came toward the kitchen. He arrived there to find Misty and the elder maid busily moving about the kitchen. They'd already seen to their own suppers and were tidying up.
"Monsieur," Misty said, curtseying as he walked into the kitchen. He nodded smiling at her.
"And to whom do I owe my thanks for this delicate pastry?" Erik said as he laid the plate containing the remaining pieces of it on the counter.
Misty smiled, and looked at the older woman, who nodded. "Why Monsieur, did she not tell you?"
Erik looked at her his head cocked to one side, looking between the women as if they knew a secret he did not. "And what is this that you speak of?"
Misty smiled, wiping her hands on her apron, taking a shallow bowl to cover the remaining pastry. "Your wife sir, did she not tell you? She made this for you…to welcome you home Monsieur."
Erik looked down at it, suddenly it had become twice as sweet…no wonder he'd enjoyed it so! As Misty covered it he looked at it as though she was covering his first born child. It was the first gift that Christine had made for him…and he'd enjoyed it thoroughly. He smiled at Misty, "perhaps just one more bite."
She smiled at him, setting the bowl down on the counter. She retrieved a plate and fork, setting them on the cupboard next to the dish. She moved away from it as Erik used the knife to sliver off just one more piece.
The elder maid left the room, she was overcome by the tenderness of it. She'd never seen a man, any man, as appreciative of the simple things in life as this man. He was no doubt a man of means, usually they were the least likely to appreciate any triviality.
Misty walked to the small pot on the stove. It was filled with the stiff coffee she so liked to have with her sweets. They'd had apple pie for dessert themselves, so she'd prepared a pot. She walked back to Erik setting the cup on the cupboard next to his plate.
He stood staring down at it. "Monsieur, if you do not mind my saying," Erik looked at her and nodded, "she took great pride in making this for you, she said it was her first." Nicole smiled sweetly at him and departed.
Erik stood, looking down at the plate. Christine's first. She'd given him so many of her firsts…. Her first songs of her growing voice, her first obedience to instruction, her first heart, her first passions, her first child, and now, how ever simple the pleasure, this as well. She was his, and his alone. He slid his fork into the pastry, savoring it with even more pleasure than he had before. Her hands had shaped it, prepared it. It was…he decided…the best he'd ever had.
Several minutes later Misty reappeared in the kitchen. Erik had covered the remainder of the pastry, and was standing looking out the window into the darkening sky. Misty moved toward the cupboard retrieving a tray, several bowls and plates. She'd prepare a tray for him. She rather knew, though he'd not said, that they would be dining in their room, unless nightclothes became the fashion at the dinner table, but she guessed not.
Erik was silent as he stared out at the snow that was decidedly lowering. No doubt the melt had begun beneath the surface. The ground was far too warm to tolerate the cover for long. Just the night previous about this same hour, he'd been out in the snow with the older woman in his arms. She was still alive twenty-four hours ago. He shook his head. The woman had meant the world to her family and now she was gone.
"Monsieur?" He turned, Misty stood, tray readied. "I shall follow you Monsieur." Erik smiled coming toward her, reaching out to take the tray. "Monsieur," Misty said as she held fast to it, "please allow me, I've need to do my duty for all that you provide for us." Erik could not argue with her, he nodded, he would acquiesce.
XXXXX
Christine had been tossing and turning. She was so warm, so warm. She wrung the sheets in her hand, something was wrong, something was terribly wrong. She fought to wake herself but she could not. Her head was filled with a searing pain, it ached so. She had to wake up, she had to…. Though her eyes were closed, she perceived a flashing white light. Her body began to shake, it was strong….she couldn't fight it.
Her mind was whirling. Her focus was flashing in and out. First bright white, like the high afternoon sun on the brilliance of a new snow. Then, the darkest of night, a night with no moon, nay, blacker yet.
Then her body grew cold, and the darkness seemed to surround her. She began to shiver. It felt as though she was descending, deeper and deeper into ground. She could hear a voice…it was her own….calling out to her…Christine…… She shook her head rolling around in the bed, entangling herself in the sheets. The longer she felt herself dropping, the greater the dread that filled her.
Her eyes began to focus, it was stone, carved and laid stone…it looked familiar. It was the Opera House. She could hear voices, other voices, and a scream. Her heart began to race…she was certain she recognized that shrill shriek…it was Meg!
Christine fought to wake, but the dream would not release her. She flew faster and faster still until she came to the waterways that had led to Erik's lair. The walls were covered in moss and mold, and she was met by a sickly smell of stagnant water. She seemed to glide over the surface, drawn to the very epicenter of the terrors she could hear but not see. She heard it again, Meg shrieking "No….NO!"
She flew around the corner to see what could only have been her greatest fear…Nadir laying in Meg's arms, limp and lifeless. Meg rocking back and forth taking turns looking down at the bloodied and broken Nadir, and the dark figure that stood before her, taunting her. She heard a voice come from the dark figure, "that was for my father, and you…you shall be the sacrifice for my brother," she heard him laugh evilly, "it seems only fitting, do you not think?" Meg was covering her face with one hand as she cowered over Nadir. The screaming and pleading began yet again.
Christine could hear it as plain as if it were in the very room with her. She writhed around in the bed, until she finally jerked awake. She was covered in sweat, terror filled her eyes as Erik came bursting in through the door.
Christine's eyes were wild and wide. Erik glanced first at her then his eyes darted to every corner of the room, she was alone. He rushed to her taking her into his arms, rocking her back and forth. "Shhhh…it is alright Christine…I am here with you."
Christine could not cry though she felt as terrified as she had ever been. "I could…I could…"
Erik put her cheek against his chest as he pulled her up into his arms. "Was it a dream Christine?" He said to her as Misty came into the room quickly depositing the tray and immediately retreating, closing the door behind her.
"I could hear screaming Erik, as real as if it were right here!"
Erik ran his hand along her back trying to soothe her, the excitement would come to no good for her. "It was you my dear, you were screaming. Shhh….my love."
Christine swallowed. She had to tell him, though she knew what it would mean, and that terrified her equally. She could not be parted from him again, she could not bare it!
Erik waited until he was certain he'd heard Misty's footsteps move down the stairs. He lifted Christine's chin. "Tell me of it Christine."
Her lips trembled, and the tears that had escaped her now flowed. Erik put her head against his chest once more. "Christine, remember, no more secrets my love, no more secrets." She clung to his middle. It seemed that what she should do, and what she wanted to do were always at war. She leaned away slightly, looking up at Erik she reached out and touched his cheek. He looked at her with such vulnerability in his eyes. "Do not worry Christine, I am here for you."
She closed her eyes. Lowering her head to his chest once more. "Very well, but you must promise me first, that you will not part us, not for any reason Erik, I cannot bare it, I would sooner die than be parted from you again."
Erik winced, she was so insistent, it surely meant the circumstances would require him, his presence. "Christine, I shan't be able to take that vow unless I know…."
She shook her head. She'd never played a game of bluff, but she must now, for surely she'd need to tell him either way. Christine looked up at him, "promise me…"
Erik looked away, closing his eyes, gritting his teeth. "Christine.."
"PROMISE ME, promise me you'll not separate us again, if you love me you shall promise me now!"
Erik pulled her into his arms, holding her closely. "I shan't put you or our children in harms way Christine."
She began to cry. If he was to go, she would rather be dead at his side, than to live without him. "Promise me…if you love me…swear to it.." she said through broken sobs.
Erik's eyes welled. He was not accustomed to bargaining, especially over serious matters.
"Promise," she whimpered, now fearing he would not, and she would have to tell him.
Erik's grip around her tightened as he pulled her neck up to his face, kissing it tenderly. "I promise Christine." He whispered into her ear.
She ran her arms around his neck embracing him, sobbing all the more. He had relented, and soon they would be making a decision that would affect them all….
Erik sat Christine up straight, drying her eyes with the sleeve of his night shirt. She stifled her crying as best as she was able, her breathing was staggered but steady.
"Shhh…" he crooned. She needed to calm herself. He took her hands into his. "Now tell me Christine, tell me of this dream."
She looked over at the tray of steaming stew and hot coffee. "May I have a sip," she asked. Yes, she was indeed thirsty, but truly she needed a moment. A moment where she wasn't looking into those intense eyes. She needed to muster her courage, stay strong, for she knew he would protest, down to the last breath.
Erik rose quickly retrieving a cup for her. He sat down on the bed alongside her. She was shivering. He took the robe from his shoulders slipping it carefully around her.
"Erik, it was a dream…not a normal dream…" she pressed her eyes closed the pain of her words would be certain. "It was one such as that I first had of Meg."
Erik's eyes widened. He'd expected her to talk about the children, her father perhaps, but Meg? "What of it Christine, what did you see?"
Once again she broke down into tears. "Erik, it was Meg…and Nadir…." Erik's brows grew ever higher, his heart pace quickened. "They were in the Opera House, in your house. It was dark, they were on the bank on the opposite shore, not far from the swan."
Erik's brow furrowed. "What of it Christine?" Surely Nadir would not have harmed Meg, this dream would be most false, he felt himself relaxing a bit.
Christine looked at Erik her lips trembling, "Nadir was on the floor, blood….blood everywhere…he was in Meg's lap."
Erik felt his heart skip a beat, seeming to come to a halt. "What was it that you saw Christine?"
She shook, the fear overtaking her. "I saw them, Nadir was limp, and Meg…she was pleading with someone…"
Erik stood, he began to pace the floor. "Who was it Christine, did you see that?"
Christine shook her head, she'd not seen him. "Though I heard his words Erik, they chill me just thinking of them."
Erik came to her, kneeling on the ground before her. "What were the words Christine, pray do tell me."
Christine swallowed, "the dark figure that stood over Meg, taunting her. The voice come from the dark figure, "that was for my father, and you…you shall be the sacrifice for my brother, it seems only fitting, do you not think?" Meg was covering her face with one hand as she cowered over Nadir. The screaming and pleading began yet again." Christine looked into Erik's face that now had gone ashen.
He closed his eyes, why, why had he promised? "Erik, I don't know how or why they would find themselves in the Opera House. Truly, I can make no sense of it. You have said yourself that Nadir had not been there, he'd not have known his way, perhaps that is why Meg was with him, but why, what would draw them there?"
Erik shook his head, he couldn't imagine it. "Christine, Nadir is a purposeful man. If he'd seen fit to take Meg there as guide or otherwise, there must have been good reason for it."
Christine shook her head. This was silly, they were talking of events as if they'd actually happened, and she prayed in her heart that they were but folly. "Erik, it could be but a dream, perhaps I was mistaken." Christine wanted nothing more than for it to be false. She tried, desperately in her mind to find some plausible answer to the lot of it, but alas, she could not. She looked at Erik, she could see the turmoil in his face. His brow was as deeply furrowed as she could ever recall seeing it. The vein on the side of his neck bulged. She watched him with a steady eye.
He stood, pacing back and forth. He stopped to look at her, hanging his head low he paced and paced. It was driving Christine quite mad.
Erik's mind was moving at lightening speed. The weather, it was not favorable. Christine had felt well, and all seemed fine, but a bumpy trip hours away to Paris, was the last thing a woman with child needed. He had promised. Nadir was his oldest friend. Meg was the daughter to his dearest friend…she was nearly a sister to Christine. He looked back up at Christine, she was staring at him. It did not ease the weight of the decision he must make. If it were just he to consider, he'd have already been making preparations. But with Christine….he closed his eyes. He had promised…he had promised.
Christine sat nervously watching as Erik paced back and forth, back and forth without a word. She became more nervous as each minute passed. Would he go back on his word? Would he go without her? Would he decide not to go at all? She could take it no longer. "Erik?"
He turned to her, his eyes flashing. She winced but quickly realized it was not a look of anger…it was…she thought for the very first time…a look of…was it…fear? She blinked, perhaps her eyes deceived her. She glanced again and the look was gone.
"Wait here Christine." She started to rise. Erik walked over to her, placing his hand on her shoulder. "Wait here." He leaned down placing a reassuring kiss on her cheek. "I shall be back in but a few minutes." He glanced over at the bowl of cooling stew. "Do eat my dear, you may be needing it."
Christine followed him to the door, putting her hand on it as it closed behind him. She had no idea where he was going, or what it was that he intended to do. She only knew that when he'd taken that tone to his voice, that he was serious. Very, very, serious.
She sat down on the divan by the hearth. The table with the bowls of stew sat off to the side. She looked down at her clothing, over at the bed and back to the bowl again. She wanted to crawl back in that bed, pull the covers up over her head and pretend she'd dreamed the entire unpleasant thing, though she knew she couldn't. She looked down at her nightclothes. She wanted to rise, change into something suitable for traveling, but she knew she shouldn't.
She looked down at the stew, running her hand across her stomach. She had no appetite to speak of, but she knew she must eat. It had been a long while since she'd consumed anything of substance, and though she could easily do with out it, she knew the children she carried could not. She lifted the bowl taking the first bite. It was as delicious as it smelled, though she couldn't bring herself to enjoy it. It might as well have been dirt or mortar, she could not enjoy it…. She took bite after bite until nearly half the bowl was gone. She was certain it had taken her at least ten minutes to eat that much, and she could eat no more lest she make herself quite ill. She picked up the cup. The coffee long since cold was bitter now, she went to sit it down on the table, blinking, carefully lifting the cup and returning it properly to its saucer.
Christine looked down at the tray. She'd not noticed it before, but a singular flower lay across it, between the two bowls. A white rose. She lifted it, raising it to her nose. She closed her eyes. It was the flower of hope. She pressed it against her lips, uttering a quiet prayer. "Please dear God, let us not find them in the circumstances which I saw. Please keep them safe Lord, keep them safe until we can reach them. Lord let there be a way for us to go to them…both of us.
XXXXXX
Raoul, Meg, and Madame Giry sat waiting. They'd heard him, and knew he must be on his way to join them. Raoul stood as his father entered the room. Although he looked a bit disheveled, he was in a jacket. "Sit, sit, Raoul, my son." DeChagny said as he admonished Raoul.
Madeline was quickly on his heels. She wanted to see to supper for the ladies especially, it had been a long while since their last meal, no doubt they would have hunger by now.
She brought out a shallow dishes of potato soup. It was something warm and welcome, and she knew it was one of Raoul's favorites.
He smiled at her as she sat his soup plate down in front of him. "Thank you Madeline." The four of them sat in near silence as they began to consume this first course. Raoul looked up at Meg on several occasions smiling.
DeChagny noticed the familiar glances. "No doubt your activities today agreed with you quite well." He smiled at the both of them.
Raoul glanced back at his father. "And I see a bit of sleep has improved your demeanor." Raoul hadn't meant to be acerbic, for truly his father had no idea that he'd been overheard.
DeChagny did not respond directly, but instead retorted, "I enjoyed a most pleasurable rest". He repositioned himself in the chair as his bowl was emptied. He looked about for the customary bottle of wine for dinner, but there was none. He looked down at his glass. It was filled with water. Perhaps he could manage dinner without it, but he'd have preferred not if he'd had his way. But, this was Raoul's house, and if so desired to have a meal without it, he would not even make mention of it.
Madeline came in clearing the soup plates. Delivering a fresh pot of tea. Raoul nodded to her, picking up the pot going from cup to cup filling them. His father simply watched with curious eyes, but said nothing.
Soon Madeline was back a freshly roasted rack of lamb with a cherry glaze, and a dish of herbed potatoes. She sat them on the table and went to retrieve the bread that had just come from the oven. All eyes were on the perfectly dressed rack of lamb, it was as pleasing to behold as it was likely to be to consume. Returning she began to slice the lamb for them, taking turns filling their plates.
As they prepared to begin they heard a rattling at the window. Raoul shook his head. "No doubt it is the wind, just as it was the evening of the storms arrival."
He smiled as they went about enjoying their dinner. It had been a fairly pleasant day, and that is they way he wished to end it. If he was to easily transition Meg to not having him in her room when she woke, he would do so gradually, trying to preserve all other aspects of the relationship that they now shared.
"Terribly good lamb son." DeChagny said to Raoul as he nodded with his mouth full. Madeline came in without a word, and put several more on his plate. Very good indeed.
XXXXX
Beneath what remained of the tree was the hollowed out shell of the charred carriage. The sides of the drifts surrounding the gully carved in the snow, bore evidence to the mad scramblings two creatures had made hours before as they escaped barely with their lives, one man, one beast.
He'd not planned, nor had he wanted to venture out of the temporary haven that afternoon, but his carelessness had necessitated it. He'd fallen asleep with a fire just kindled. It grew large enough to lap at the lower boughs of the tree. It had taken minutes only before the tree was being consumed, losing its branch on top of the coach. The fresh laquer of a new carriage provided food for the wildly spreading fire.
The boy had been so exhausted he'd slept until the neighing and thrashing about of his horse made him wake. He'd tried to douse it with snow, but it was too far gone. He'd only time to scramble into the carriage retrieving his satchel before the roof fell in.
He had quickly unleashed his horse who fought with the now sloping banks of the snow. The warmth of the day, and the cooling temperatures of the late afternoon had caused the snow to compact making it as hard as any road, though decidedly less than even. As the horse tried and failed several times to scale the bank, the boy had no choice but to scale it himself, sliding about on its surface before finally coming to the crest. He had taken the horse's reins and now pulled for all he was worth until the beast was finally freed.
The horse wanted to bolt, remove itself from the present danger, but the boy held fast to the reins. From a safe distance he watched as all he had left in this world of his family's went up in flames. He had been careless, and now he had nothing…and nothing left to lose, and but one promise to keep. It made him more dangerous than ever.
Author's Notes:
Dear Faithfuls: Again my undying gratitude for those in our Phamily who have made the journey thus far. I could never have imagined the day I posted the very first chapter that I would find myself still adding to the story in November! I am so very thankful to all of you for your encouraging words, and for joining me on the path to what I pray is truly, the world as it should have been for our beloved Phantom and his beloved Christine. K
PhantomsRogue: Work, work, work, makes us tired and sometimes dull. I am sad to say that I have yet another separation coming from the Phamily. Next week I will be away from all things normal once again from Wednesday through Sunday. There is so much to be done out in this world, and I suppose I shall do my small part! I do promise you that I WILL get to that e-mail before I go, it is my solemn vow!
You are most welcome for the critique of 'American Psycho'. It makes the scene you refer to in 'Moulin Rouge' seem like the first day of kindergarten, and the first scenes of 'Psycho' is the first year of college! It really is that bad, disturbing is probably the best way to put it. While so much is not believable, you could see how some strange personality that had no regard for human life might actually do things like this. I've found myself pausing on different scenes in my mind, and that is not a good thing. There was so much I had to fast-forward through that I think I spared myself some of the worst of it. Anyway, enough time and thought spent on it. Tell your boyfriend you'll get him an appointment with a shrink if he needs to watch it! LOL! Just kidding!
I have not seen either of the two movies that you suggest, but I shall look for them at the video centre. I do like Miranda Richardson and Helena Bonham-Carter, so I am certain that I'd like it, and I trust your judgment. I will look for the sound track for 'The Corpse Bride', I do love a good soundtrack. Did you ever find the one for 'Batman Begins'? That is dark music, very dark. I do think Erik would have loved it!
I wish my dear Rogue, that I could promise you that Nadir is safe…but surely after this chapter…you see my dear…no one is truly safe. A shadow had fallen, and it was casting its treacherous reaches towards the man….
Le bon jour mon âme-soeur, ma soeur !
PhantomLover05: They say that there is art in brevity…thank you for your kind comment. I trust that the story thus far has met with your approval…and I am glad that you are continuing on this journey with the Phamily.
Musicofthenight13: Good to hear from you. At the risk of sounding coy, the babies will arrive, all in due time my dear, all in due time! They have a considerable amount of growing to do.
Nordygirl: My, my, you do have quite a range of musicals don't you! I could almost see Donny Osmond as the music rolled in my head!
My dear, never feel like you are rambling…especially with me! If anyone could ever be accused of rambling, of being too verbose, it would be me! I do agree with your statement regarding self-expression. It gives us the chance to show the world who were born to be. It is like giving them a page of your life and saying, "this is who I am, I hope you can appreciate me for my uniqueness." Oh my, so many books have been written on that very subject.
Have a wonderful night!
Tex110: So very good to hear from you! Now I must say the Phamily is more than interested in what your trespass might have been that would have earned you a month-long ban from the umbilical cord that connects you to us! So, if you can, do share. If not, please do think of us before you do it again…we do not like being separated from our Phamily members LOL!
I am glad that you enjoyed Erik's story of rescuing the piano. It is my hope that it further reinforces the core of his goodness, of his appreciation for things that are beyond his own world, and that he was willing to risk something of himself for people he'd never met. I think it sets a tone for him as a person. Though something from his past haunts him, there are good things that he's done too, and those are the very things he will learn to cling to over the coming months….I can say no more.
Now, sneaking around behind the 'parental units' is never a good thing, as one always seems to get caught…some way or another…(Just ask Raoul!) That said, we hope sincerely that your month's ban is nearly at its end!
Until we hear from you again, we bid you adieu
PhantomFan13: We do miss you when you are gone, but school work is an important thing to do…feeding the mind…you never need to apologize for that my dear!
Yes, alas, we did know that Erik and Christine could not long remain angry with one another. Though this is a new development in their relationship. This is the first time that they'd both been angry, and quite at odds with each other. I think it is a testament to how they are growing more comfortable with one another. It is only when one becomes truly comfortable with another that the truest of emotions show….
As for Meg and Christine, I wish I could tell you, but then I would have to lock you in a room, and since I do not know where in the world you are, it is impossible, so for now, I will have to avoid answering the question, but to say….no, I simply cannot. I pray you'll forgive me
Yes, you might well be right about LadyWinifred…but we shall see!
Have a wonderful night! Keep up the school work my dear!